


from the heart (re-conceptions of you)

by takakoyaki



Category: Infinite (Band)
Genre: Additional appearances by the rest of the members, Alternate Universe - Art School, M/M, Remix, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-26
Updated: 2017-08-26
Packaged: 2018-12-20 00:48:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11909739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/takakoyaki/pseuds/takakoyaki
Summary: Rewrite of my very first Infinite fanfiction, because wooyeol.AU in which Sungyeol is a 3D art student who makes  bizarre avant-garde sculpture made from recycled materials, Woohyun is a composition major dealing (badly) with a slump, their respective friends try their best to be supportive, and life is just something that conspires both for and against them.





	from the heart (re-conceptions of you)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm still not an art expert, but am no longer new to this fandom and actually know how to write Sungyeol and Woohyun now. Thanks to everyone who was patient with me these past three years, I hope the new and improved version makes you smile. The old version has been deleted, if you wanted to read it again, please let me know in the comments.
> 
> And an extra special thank you as always to P, for being unfailingly honest.

Sungyeol and Woohyun are like two planets whose orbits are just out of sync enough that neither ever truly meets the other. Their university’s Arts division is one of the biggest in the country, so of course Sungyeol wouldn’t know everyone super well even if he was the type to get around. But they share enough mutual friends to be on that awkward level of _probably-should-know-you-but-don’t_ that’s been happening to Sungyeol too frequently since he started attending.

For the most part though, he doesn’t really pay much attention to that kind of thing. He likes thinking about sculptures more than people to begin with, and he has enough friends anyway. And so Nam Woohyun is only a name that Sungyeol knows but has no associations with.

Until, that is, their orbits finally collide.

 

 

It’s an average Tuesday afternoon.

Sungyeol’s latest work in progress,  _Transparent Ode to Pure Perception,_ is a comment on the banality of modern materialism as expressed through recycled materials. He feels like he might have thought of it over a 3 AM pot of ramyeon last week, but he doesn’t remember exactly. In any case, there is a pressing need for more cardboard and chicken wire before he can continue, so he heads to the supply rooms to forage.

The first cabinet he opens is not only devoid of cardboard but also contains a person, shivering, probably because he’s only wearing a tank top and training pants at the moment. The guy must be pretty short (not to mention flexible) to cram himself in there like that, Sungyeol surmises. He wouldn’t be able to fit himself in a space like that if he tried (and  _no_ , he hasn’t tried. Yet).

“I’m hiding out here. Just pretend you didn’t see me,” the guy hisses through chattering teeth. Sungyeol stares at him, not quite comprehending.

“Uh, but why are you hiding in there?”

“It’s punishment because I lost a game,” he replies, and Sungyeol wonders if that also explains his lack of clothing. “Hurry and close it, he could be here any second.”

Sungyeol blinks, nods, and complies. Thanks to Cabinet Guy he’s forgotten what he was supposed to look for in the first place, however. After a moment’s hesitation, he takes off his sweatshirt and opens the cabinet again.

“It’s cold in here. You shouldn’t stay with no clothes on,” Sungyeol suggests, and though the guy rolls his eyes at him for stating the obvious he ends up putting the sweatshirt on anyway. “You’re a student, right? Are you allowed to be in here?”

“You don’t know who I am? Seriously?” Hiding Guy huffs at Sungyeol, but Sungyeol merely shrugs. “I’m Nam Woohyun, third year. You’re that tall guy in 3D Art… uh, Myungsoo’s friend. Lee Sungyeol, right?”

“Yeah, I guess.” Sungyeol suddenly remembers what he came to the room for and starts poking in the other cabinets. So this guy is Nam Woohyun—the guy everyone and their mom are crazy about for some reason, Mr. Super Popular who has a double major in music composition _and_ Korean literature. He expected someone a little more cool-looking, judging from what Myungsoo’s said about him, but in person he seems pretty average to Sungyeol.

“Close the door!” Woohyun reminds him, but it’s too late. A young man with bright pink hair bursts into the room, pointing straight at the cabinet, and Sungyeol recognizes third-year Jang Dongwoo from the modern dance department. He’s wearing a loose sleeveless shirt and jeans, though the outfit seems a bit more purposeful than Woohyun’s choice of clothing.

“I knew I heard your voice, Nam-goon! Did you complete your punishment?” Dongwoo claps gleefully as Woohyun groans and wriggles out of the cabinet.

“Just let me off already, I gotta go practice and I’m not even wearing a real shirt,” Woohyun protests.

Dongwoo replies, “Well, you _are_ on north campus sans shirt like we all agreed, but the idea was to be out and about.”

“That’s cruel and unusual punishment, it’s _cold_ still. I have no idea how you’re wearing that scrap of a shirt by choice,” Woohyun tells him, holding out his hand. “But I still technically served it, so please give me back my clothes.”

Dongwoo blinks at him, a huge frown on his face. “Oh… right. Sorry Nam-goon, I left my bag in my locker… at the other end of campus.”

Both their gazes swivel simultaneously to Sungyeol, who freezes like a deer in the headlights.

“You mean you have to keep it?” Sungyeol groans once he’s regained his footing. “Can’t you just run over and get your bag?”

“That’d be tough, Woohyunie was only able to book the practice room for one block tonight. He can’t be late,” Dongwoo pleads. “I’m really sorry! Can you help him this one time?

“We’ll make it up to you,” Woohyun offers. “By the way, aren’t you a second-year, Sungyeol-sshi?”

Sungyeol squints at him. “Yeah, I am.”

“Oh! I’m your sunbae then,” Woohyun practically beams, and Sungyeol winces involuntarily. Right, he _was_ the older one.

“Then I promise I’ll treat you later—as your sunbae,” Woohyun continues. “Today I just really need the practice time. I’ll wash it and bring it back, I promise.”

“I. Uh, sure?” Sungyeol blinks, not completely sure what he’s agreed to, but he’s too confused to say anything else. It’s only when Woohyun and Dongwoo leave that he realizes he’s accidentally befriended(?) both of the very strange third-years.

 

\--

 

Woohyun had a lot of friends, but he had never really made many friends with people like Sungyeol. It was easiest for him to connect with people who were warm and cheerful, like Dongwoo, or steadfast and predictable, like Howon. Sungyeol’s reputation and first impression was both capricious and indifferent all at once, which Woohyun definitely could adapt to—he could adapt to just about anyone, after all—but those two qualities were some of the most difficult for him to deal with.

But still, he owed Sungyeol for inconveniencing him, and he wanted to stay true to his word about treating him.

“Hey, Sungyeol-sshi,” he says, waving and trying to be as welcoming as possible as he walks up to Sungyeol in one of the school’s studios.

“Hello, sunbae.” Sungyeol doesn’t look up when he comes in; he’s currently wrestling with a mess of chicken wire for some reason, and pieces of cardboard are scattered everywhere. Woohyun makes a show of studying it while thinking of ways to lighten the mood.

“You can call me hyung if you want. Let’s be relaxed around each other, we have a lot of the same friends after all,” he suggests, smiling amicably.

“Sure, I guess.” Sungyeol agrees, though he still acts like he’s being put-upon. “Do you have my sweatshirt then, Woohyun hyung?”

“Yes, just like I promised.” Woohyun presents Sungyeol with a brand new sweatshirt, in the same color even.  He thought it’d be much nicer than giving back that old ratty thing with holes in it that Sungyeol had been wearing the other day.

“This isn’t mine! You still have _my_ sweatshirt,” Sungyeol complains, frowning at the garment Woohyun has just given him. “You promised you’d give it back.”

“But that one had holes! I… well, I thought you’d like the new one more,” Woohyun sighs. He should have known better than to assume Sungyeol wasn’t attached to his old one. “Look, I’m sorry. I should have asked you first.”

Sungyeol remains upset despite Woohyun’s apology. “I have to rip all the tags out of my clothes because they itch me. It’s my favorite sweatshirt.”

“I’ll bring back the old one next time. It should still be in my apartment,” Woohyun promises, trying to placate him. It feels a bit like he’s dealing with a child. “Do you not want the new one, then?”

“Ahh, you can keep it.” Sungyeol hands Woohyun back the sweater, lowering his eyes. “I know you meant well, but you should spend your money on yourself.”

“Fair enough,” Woohyun concedes.  “Hmm… well, I did say I would treat you, though. Should I bring you some coffee if you’re too busy to go to the café?”

“Aren’t you busy too? I thought you had a packed schedule and a final project to do.” Sungyeol replies as he wrangles some wire for his sculpture.

“I do, but I needed a break. If you want me to get it, now would be the time,” Woohyun informs him. “I was thinking of getting a snack too, but if you’re in the middle of something…”

“No, it would be okay with me. Let’s go now,” Sungyeol stands up, immediately hooked by the mention of food. The two of them leave the studio, with Sungyeol falling into step beside Woohyun. “How is your final project going, hyung?”

“It’s going fine,” Woohyun answers casually as they make their way across campus. (It’s not going fine, but no one needs to know that.) “Do you live near campus, Sungyeol?”

Sungyeol eyes him suspiciously, but answers anyway. “I have a room at the goshiwon down the street, but I only sleep there. Not much compared to my time in the studio.”

Woohyun peppers Sungyeol with questions along the rest of the way to the café, and quickly realizes that Sungyeol is quite eager to chat as long as you keep him from getting upset. He learns Sungyeol is surprisingly serious about abstract sculpture but hates getting critiqued, has most of his modern art history books memorized cover to cover, makes most of his pieces out of recycled materials, and, of all things, wishes he could keep a pet monkey to run him errands while he works on his art.

“A pet monkey? Seriously?” Woohyun nearly gets tears in his eyes from laughing too hard as he pushes open the doors of the café.

“What?! I could train it to do errands while I work, wouldn’t that be great?” Sungyeol demands honestly, and Woohyun doesn’t have the heart to shatter his dreams just then.

“Yes, yes it would,” he agrees, laughing again. “Anyway, order whatever you want, coffee, baked goods, whatever. It’s on me today.”

“Really? Anything?” Sungyeol looks at Woohyun suspiciously. When Woohyun nods, his eyes widen in accusation. “First the sweatshirt, now you’re just buying me whatever food I want? Are you secretly the son of a CEO?”

“Nothing of the sort. Don’t worry about it,” Woohyun reassures him, yet Sungyeol still doesn’t seem convinced. “Not every college student who isn’t starving is a chaebol in a drama, you know.”

“That’s exactly what you’d say if you secretly were one,” Sungyeol retorts, but accepts Woohyun’s offer in the end anyway.

He half-expects Sungyeol to ask why Woohyun’s so interested in him, or why he’s buying him so much food after knowing him for a day, but when the food appears Sungyeol seems content enough to eat away and keep talking about his latest sculpture, which he gave a very long name. Woohyun is happy to listen, only adding in an occasional question or comment as Sungyeol goes on about monkeys or the best way to weld together different types of wire fencing. He might even want to see Sungyeol again like this, especially if he needs a distraction from his own problems. Hopefully he’ll be hard at work on his project soon, though, so he won’t be able to see him all  _that_  much.

Or, so he thinks. 

 

\--

 

Woohyun doesn’t come around too often after their initial coffee outing, or at least not to the extent Sungyeol had assumed, but he does make the mistake of trading contact info with him at some point. After that it doesn’t take too long for him to realize that Woohyun mainly texts him when he’s frantically searching for a reason to not work on his final project.

He gets one such message from Woohyun as he’s heading to class in the middle of the week.

_[did you really win a prize for your art last year?? our sungyeollie is so talented~ it’s late but congrats! kkkkkkk =_=]_

The randomness of the text makes Sungyeol wonder if Woohyun has worked on his project at all this week, despite the tone being fairly upbeat for one of Woohyun’s procrastination-texts. He sighs exasperatedly as he sends his reply.

_[hyung, please work on your project instead of texting me]_

_[you can’t force inspiration, Lee Sungyeol. A famous person said this =_=]_

_[I’m sure they did at some point, but you need to finish it either way]_

It’s not likely that Woohyun is actually going to listen to him, but Sungyeol doesn’t have the chance to check as he arrives to his class. Not long after he sits down, Sungyeol’s Advanced 3D Art instructor, Professor Lee, announces to the class that after final evaluations, he’s going to select one student to enter their piece in an art exhibit he’s putting on with his group.

“The selected work will be featured in our temporary exhibit at a well-known gallery in the city,” he tells them, and the class immediately bursts out in excited chatter. The professor has some superstar acquaintances, so obviously having one’s name in a show like that would be a huge career booster.

Sungyeol feels confident about his chances, considering he won first prize amongst the student contest held last year. His head is already near to bursting with quasi-formed ideas for the piece he wants to enter as he makes his way back to his dorm to pick up some supplies before buckling down at the studio.

Unfortunately, his high hopes for the rest of the term are dashed the moment he reaches his goshiwon building. There are emergency vehicles parked outside, and an officer immediately pulls him aside.

“Are you a resident? Sorry, but you’ll need to show your ID. There’s been an incident in your building.”

 

\--

 

Woohyun decides to put down his phone after Sungyeol lectures him over texts. Having more time this week to dedicate to his final project just means that he spends even more time in denial over his slump, though he doesn’t see how accepting it will make it go away.

“There’s nothing I can do,” he murmurs to his empty apartment, flopping onto his couch. He’s wearing the sweatshirt he bought for Sungyeol as usual; it’s become one of his favorite items to lounge around in, for whatever reason.

 _Just accept that you’re in a slump. Go out there and do something to fix it. See your friends_ , suggests the reasonable side of Woohyun’s brain.

 _Or you could take a nap because you’re tired of everyone worrying about you and your project_ , says the side of Woohyun’s brain that’s been mostly dominating his life since this weird and unwelcome mood started happening.

Woohyun curls up under a blanket, pulling the hood of the sweatshirt over his head and drifting to sleep. The soft pink color reminds him of something he can’t place, and the fabric itself is also soft and oddly comforting. He falls into a nice comfortable sleep, only waking when there’s a loud knocking on his door.

“I thought I told Jang Dongwoo not to come over today,” Woohyun sighs as he rolls off the couch and trudges to his door, expecting a loud burst of energy and hugs when he opens it.

Instead, he’s met with a very dejected and tired looking Sungyeol, a full backpack on his back, wearing the same ragged and paint splattered shirt he was wearing the last three or four times Woohyun saw him. There’s a duffel bag in his left hand and his phone clutched in his right, and despite how tall he is he looks kind of small standing there awkwardly in the doorway.

“Can I come in?” Sungyeol asks. “I called you and you didn’t answer, but Dongwoo hyung gave me your address and told me to try going over.”

“I didn’t know you two were close now,” Woohyun steps aside to let Sungyeol in, watching him curiously as he takes a few steps inside and then hovers in the entryway as if unsure what to do next.

“Well, he’s definitely more fun to hang out with than you lately,” Sungyeol informs him without missing a beat, reflecting the sarcasm in Woohyun’s voice right back at him. He slips off his shoes and stares around Woohyun’s apartment, looking quite silly with his mouth hanging half-open. “Wow, you really do live here all by yourself. This place has three whole rooms just for one person?”  

“I’m not all by myself. I have a fish named Handel,” Woohyun points to the betta in the small fish tank near the window and takes Sungyeol’s bag from his hand. “What’s this for, anyway? Going into hiding or something?”

“Oh, right,” Sungyeol says, shrugging as if it’s no big deal. “My goshiwon got trashed, and I need somewhere to stay. Dongwoo hyung suggested I ask you.”

“Not that I’m not flattered, but you didn’t want to stay with Kim Myungsoo? I thought he had his own place too.” Woohyun drops Sungyeol’s bag next to the couch, not entirely against the idea despite his questioning. He isn’t getting anywhere with his project, after all, and at least Sungyeol is too preoccupied with his own problems to look at Woohyun like he deserves pity or something.

“He’s really busy with class and work, plus you probably know how he’s dating now, so I didn’t really… you know. I didn’t want to get in his way.” Sungyeol shifts around uncomfortably.

“Ooh, so thoughtful. And you didn’t think I’d be busy too?” Woohyun says jokingly, but again, Sungyeol doesn’t seem to catch on.

“You said you weren’t working on your project, so I figured I wouldn’t be bothering you that much,” he deadpans. He’s been standing in the same spot more or less since he walked in, only moving when Woohyun finally takes him by the wrist and leads him to the couch.

“Probably not, no,” Woohyun admits, guiding Sungyeol to sit down next to him. “You can go ahead and crash here, the couch is all yours. It  _is_  only for a few days, right?”

Sungyeol continues to fidget awkwardly even once he’s sitting. “I’m looking for a replacement room, but all of the nearby ones I can afford are full. I might have to wait for the repairs to be done, but I can pay you after that for sure.”

“Don’t worry about money,” Woohyun shrugs, then immediately catches Sungyeol looking at him with suspicion again. “And no, I’m not a chaebol! But I can help you, so just let me be the hyung here.”

“… Okay. Thanks, hyung,” Sungyeol says, but it sounds half-hearted, and when he looks at him Sungyeol seems somewhat melancholy, like he’s lost. As flippant as Sungyeol acts, Woohyun figures what happened to the goshiwon must have really gotten to him. He sits down next to Sungyeol, watching him carefully.

“Don’t worry Sungyeol-ah, I’m sure they’ll fix it up soon,” he tells Sungyeol cheerfully. ”I’m not as close to campus, but we’re right by a subway stop so you’ll still be able to get to the studio without any trouble.”

“Thanks, hyung. I should actually go back there now that I figured out somewhere to stay,” Sungyeol shakes his head and stands up. “I need to work on my project.”

“Right.” Woohyun lies down on the couch again. His chest feels heavy. “Spare key’s in the drawer under the fish tank, take it with you and don’t lose it.”

“Sure. Hey, Is that the sweatshirt you bought me before?” Sungyeol asks curiously.

Woohyun had actually forgotten he was wearing it, and for some reason he feels self-conscious when Sungyeol points it out. “Oh right. Well, I decided not to return it so I’m just wearing it, I like it a lot,” he explains.

“That’s good. It’s a good color on you,” Sungyeol says, smiling sheepishly. Woohyun has never really heard Sungyeol compliment him (or anyone) so straightforwardly before. He’s too surprised to say anything in return before Sungyeol leaves, but the heavy feeling in his chest is a little lighter all the same.

He’s not quite sure what to do with himself after Sungyeol leaves; even when he tries to go back to sleep, it feels too weird thinking that it’s not just his place anymore, at least for the time being. After all, he’s been shutting himself off from all of his friends for so long that even the small conversation with Sungyeol made him feel terribly lonely.

 _I just miss my friends_ , he convinces himself as he goes to change out of his pajamas. After a moment of consideration he texts Howon, asking what he’s doing later that evening and if he wants to go get drinks. Howon texts back right away per usual, but his response makes Woohyun frown.

_[I thought you were finally working on your project because I hadn’t heard from you, Namu.]_

_[is that a no?]_

_[Well, none of us should be spending too much time out until the work is done. I have revisions to do tonight, myself.]_

Woohyun is about to protest that even Howon needs a break at times, but stops when the image of Sungyeol in the studio floats into his head. Sungyeol piecing his sculptures together, the pages and pages of sketches and drafts and diagrams always surrounding his work area, his singular focus on the task in front of him.

 _[I’ll work on mine tonight then too],_ Woohyun texts back finally, and sets down his phone.

“Handel-ah, I think I’m getting soft in my old age,” Woohyun says to the betta swimming around in the tank by the window.

The fish, unsurprisingly, doesn’t offer any opinion. Woohyun sighs and rolls up his sleeves. It’s going to be a long night.

 

\--

 

Sungyeol is art blocked.

He’s experienced it a few times before, but it’s never been this permanent or frustrating, and most of his time in the studio is spent staring very hard at his concept sketches, hoping that something adequate will spring to mind. Starting from scratch hasn’t helped either, so he’s basically out of ideas until it magically goes away, and it’s the worst feeling in the world. Okay, maybe second worst.

The  _worst_  worst feeling is the vague uncertainty he’s had ever since the incident at his goshiwon. Sungyeol being Sungyeol, he doesn’t remember one hundred percent for sure if he switched off all his appliances, if he accidentally left any hazardous materials where a stray spark from an outlet might have set off an explosion, and he can’t shake the looming feeling it’s probably his fault.

He still hasn’t told anyone about any of this, even when it feels like it’s eating him up inside, but Sungyeol can’t help it. He just feels pathetic, and the only thing that’s gone sort of right so far is that Woohyun actually agreed to let him stay with him. He doesn’t want to be any more of a burden than he already is, anyway.

“Forget it, I’ll try again tomorrow.”

He throws his sketchbook in disgust and heads to his art locker. Someone scribbled something on the door of it, but he’s too annoyed to really register what’s there. He just wants to get his things and go home.

(He’s later very thankful that he didn’t read the writing that day. It would have just made him angrier.)

 

\--

 

Woohyun never thought anything would be worse than this slump. He soon finds out he was wrong—living with Sungyeol while the two of them are dealing with slumps is much worse.

He only realizes just how bad it’s gotten when he answers the door one night and Howon is there, holding a bag of groceries and peering over Woohyun’s shoulder to assess the state of the apartment.

“Not as messy as you expected, right?” Woohyun tries to joke as Howon toes off his shoes in the entryway.

“Almost, but not quite,” Howon says candidly as he steps over a tied up bag of garbage that Woohyun and Sungyeol have neglected to take out. “I had some extra groceries that my mom gave me, so I thought I’d bring them by.”

“Thanks, Howonie. I mean it.” Woohyun tries to smile as Howon puts the bag on the counter, but it must be an even weaker grin than he thought because Howon merely frowns.

“Still nothing on your project…?” he asks, eyes flickering down as he does.

“Not yet.” Woohyun glances over at his open laptop on the coffee table, the screen flickering blankly. Scattered nearby are Sungyeol’s books and empty instant ramyeon containers, not that Woohyun can criticize him when his own pile of empty energy drink cans has colonized the other half of the table.

“Maybe call it a night and start again in the morning,” Howon offers, sympathetic.

“That’s probably a good idea.” Woohyun nods, not mentioning that he’s already taken several naps throughout the day due to unproductiveness and effectively ruined his sleep schedule. “You should get some rest too, Howon-ah.”

“Mm-hmm. Text me if you need anything else,” Howon nods back, and Woohyun winces a bit as the two of them are forced to weave through the various obstacles in the apartment in order for him to walk Howon out.

“I will,” he promises, sighing. “And… sorry you had to see my place like this.”

“It’s understandable. You’re under pressure,” Howon shrugs, looking around as he puts his shoes back on. “You both are, I’m guessing. Is living with him going alright?”

“Well… we’re managing,” Woohyun says, for lack of anything else he could think of to say. “Don’t worry about it, we’ll be okay.”

After a brief hug and a wave goodbye to Howon, Woohyun shuts the door, returning to the kitchen to check out what’s inside the care package. There are some fresh green scallions hiding amongst the knobs of ginger root and jars of homemade pickles, and when he sees them Woohyun decides he’s going to straighten the place up a bit and make scallion pancakes once Sungyeol is home.

It’s about 2 in the morning when Sungyeol finally does stumble in, collapsing on the couch immediately without even noticing that Woohyun cleaned up some. As he rouses him to eat some food, Woohyun observes that while his couch is just the right size for himself, Sungyeol’s legs dangle off of it a bit and he has to curl up in order to fit.

“Why don’t you try sleeping in my bed some nights? I don’t mind the couch, and it’s probably comfier for me than it is for you,” he suggests once they’re both in the small kitchenette, making their late-night meal of scallion pancakes and instant ramyeon.

“Are you sure?” Sungyeol sounds uncertain as he stirs the noodles around, but Woohyun notices his eyes light up a bit. “You’re already letting me stay here for free, hyung.”

“I said it was okay, remember? Anyway, the offer’s there,” Woohyun shrugs and flips the last pancake. It sizzles enticingly, golden brown, and gives off an appetizing smell. Woohyun cuts the pancakes into even sections before they sit down to their modest but comforting meal.

“I haven’t eaten home-cooked food in a really long time,” Sungyeol admits as he slurps the ramyeon, and Woohyun reaches over and pinches his arm.

“I can tell. You feel like you’re all skin and bones,” he says in an overly solemn grandmother-like tone, then adds more seriously, “You’ve been pretty quiet lately too, Sungyeol-ah. Is everything alright?”

Sungyeol sighs heavily and sets his chopsticks down in favor of staring at his plate. “I think I’m art blocked, hyung. I’m really getting annoyed by it.”

Woohyun wants to tell him that feeling annoyed was merely the beginning of the downward spiral he’s been experiencing for weeks, but doesn’t. “You do sculptures, right? How about making one of me?” he jokes instead, but Sungyeol shakes his head.

“Don’t joke about that! I do abstract sculpture, it’s not  _simple_  like realism or anything,” Sungyeol lectures him, and Woohyun rolls his eyes so hard he thinks they might fall out of their sockets.

“I  _know_  you’re an abstract artist, but even abstract art is often inspired by a real person or thing, right?” Woohyun points out. “Picasso himself based tons of his art off whatever girl he was obsessed with at the time. Just saying.”

Sungyeol takes another large bite of pancake and chews thoughtfully, his huge eyes tracing patterns on Woohyun’s ceiling. “I suppose that is true.”

“It doesn’t even have to be me, but designing a sculpture based on a person could be good practice. I’ll come to the studio with you if you need inspiration,” Woohyun elbows him. Sure, he’s joking about it, but he also needs any excuse he can get to leave the apartment these days.

“Hmm… I suppose it’s an idea.” Surprisingly, Sungyeol doesn’t seem entirely opposed to the suggestion, at least right away. He polishes off the last of his pancakes and then goes to read one of his many art theory books piled on Woohyun’s coffee table, whereas Woohyun decides to punish himself again by staring at his blank computer program and inputting some notes before deleting them for the five hundredth time.

Once he’s worn himself out mentally he goes to take a nice long shower, and after that he plays a few games on his phone, and when he finally walks into his bedroom Sungyeol is sleeping peacefully in his bed like it’s his very own. (Well, peacefully aside from the chainsaw-like snoring.)

Woohyun must be more tired than he thought, because despite how cramped it’s probably going to be, he really wants to sleep in his bed right next to Sungyeol.

_Who cares, right? It’s fine between friends, isn’t it?_

“It’s not weird at all, I’ve shared with Dongwoo lots of times,” Woohyun announces to no one in particular as he climbs into bed next to Sungyeol.

Sungyeol shifts in his sleep, and his head turns in Woohyun’s vague direction. He doesn’t open his eyes though and just rolls back over with a shrug, and it’s easy enough for Woohyun to slide under the blankets next to him, stretching comfortably as he settles in.

The chainsaw snoring resumes not that much later, but it’s so cozy and warm that Woohyun can feel himself falling asleep anyway. For how skinny he is, Sungyeol emits body heat like a furnace, and in his sleep-muddled state Woohyun automatically moves a bit closer. It’s still kind of chilly this time of year, after all, and it’s just this one time. If it’s only once, maybe he won’t miss his warmth when Sungyeol goes back to the goshiwon.

“Woohyunie hyung,” Sungyeol murmurs between snores when Woohyun nestles his head underneath Sungyeol’s chin.

“Sungyeol-ah?” Woohyun peeks up at him, but Sungyeol is still fast asleep.

 _I’m probably imagining it_ , he thinks as he settles back down. _He probably just said something that sounded like my name. It’s because I stayed up too late, I’m not thinking straight._

_That’s all it is._

 

\--

 

Woohyun tags along with Sungyeol to the studio not too long after that day, despite Woohyun maintaining that he was joking about the sculpture. Both of them have taken the stance of acting as if nothing is different now that they sleep in the same bed and accidentally cuddle sometimes, which is perfectly fine with Woohyun.

“I won’t regret this, right?” he asks Sungyeol with a grin, who gives him an exasperated look from where he’s sitting in front of his work station.

“I said it was a  _possible_  idea,” he corrects Woohyun. “For now, you’re just a stand-in for Myungsoo or Sungjong keeping me company in the studio since they’re working today, and to be honest the idea of making a sculpture based on a person is more like my last resort.”

Woohyun pretends to be offended, putting his hand to his chest dramatically. “But I’m not even demanding royalties!”

“That’s right, you don’t deserve any except for the ones you make on your own project,” Sungyeol says, dashing Woohyun’s joking mood immediately.

“I know, I know,” Woohyun sighs, flopping into his chair and scooting closer to watch Sungyeol sketch out his sculpture ideas. Sungyeol sketches for a few minutes, then tears out the page of his notebook in frustration, crumples it up and tosses it to the side where it almost hits Woohyun.

“Whoa, still having a bad time of it?” Woohyun stares at the ball of paper, then at Sungyeol. “You almost hit me with that.”

“I’m still art blocked.” Sungyeol stares at his notebook sullenly. “I thought it was the stress of it being maybe my fault about the goshiwon, but even when I tell myself I don’t care I  _still_  can’t think of anything.”

“Sungyeol-ah… you’re still upset about that?” Woohyun frowns. Sungyeol’s been at his place for a while now, but he’s been acting like the incident itself hasn’t been bothering him more than any other inconvenience would. “Why would you think it’s your fault?”

“Who else could it have been? The damage was really only to my room,” Sungyeol sighs and starts sketching again. “It’s stupid, but I keep worrying even if there’s nothing I can do about it now.”

“Even if it was you, it was an accident. You’ll get it sorted out when the time comes,” Woohyun tries to comfort him, then decides to change the subject. “Anyway, you have to focus on your project. Aren’t you entering it in the contest again?”

“I am, so you’re right about needing to focus,” Sungyeol admits. “I’m letting everything else distract me too much. I need to start over and pretend like nothing happened.”

Woohyun hums in agreement; Sungyeol’s thinking makes sense, though Woohyun isn’t sure it’s that easy. “You’re probably right. Maybe… maybe I can start over too. And just pretend like I’m not stuck.”

“Of course you can. Anyone can,” Sungyeol says matter-of-factly, tilting his head at him. “Does that mean you’re finally going to draft _your_ project?”

“Maybe.” Woohyun sighs. He doesn’t know why he’s telling Sungyeol of all people this when he hasn’t told anyone else, not even Howon or Dongwoo, but since they’re already sharing...

“I thought I had this great idea for my final project, at first,” he says. “But when I showed it to my professor she said that compared to my other works it was flat. I’m pretty sure she used the word  _derivative_. I felt like I let her down, and I haven’t been able to recover.”

“I usually just get mad when people critique my art,” Sungyeol tells him, which surprises Woohyun somewhat less than zero. “I don’t know that much about music composition, but I’m sure it’s just like creating any other kind of art. It has to come from the heart, you know.”

He gestures vaguely at Woohyun’s ribcage, and Woohyun stares at him confusedly. “That’s closer to my spleen, Sungyeol-ah.”

“Really?” Sungyeol knits his eyebrows in genuine confusion. “Which side is your heart again?”

Woohyun rolls his eyes at him, pointing at himself. “This side, remember? You can describe the themes of every major Duchamp work in chronological order, but you can’t remember something primary school kids know?”

“It’s not my fault my brain only remembers certain types of useless facts,” Sungyeol complains, but then he puts his hand on the left side of Woohyun’s chest, and the sudden warmth he feels there makes Woohyun feel fluttery in the pit of his stomach.

“Wow, that really is your heart. I can feel it pounding,” Sungyeol’s big eyes get even wider, and Woohyun forces himself to remove Sungyeol’s hand. “Are you that excited about restarting your project?”

“Uh, sure I am.” Woohyun wiggles around in his chair to shake off the weird feeling, and he can’t quite bring himself to look at Sungyeol. “Maybe I’ll go ahead and ask the TA for the official submission forms, even if he’ll probably be annoyed with me for taking this long.”

“You mean Kim Sunggyu? Oh, he’ll definitely be annoyed at you,” Sungyeol says immediately. If Woohyun didn’t know any better, he might think Sungyeol actually sounded slightly vindicated about that particular inevitability.

“Anyway, my point is, let’s finish the term well. Both of us,” he says, patting Sungyeol on the shoulder. Instead of being grateful for the encouragement, Sungyeol eyes him with a strange look again.

“I’ll do well even if you don’t, obviously,” he informs him blandly. Woohyun is about to remind him that he just complained about being art blocked, but then he starts sketching out ideas again.

“You’re a little brat sometimes, you know that?” Woohyun tells him instead, half-fond and half-exasperated. Sungyeol ignores him, chewing his lip in concentration as he puts down all the bizarre ideas floating around in that funny brain of his on paper. Woohyun watches him for a few minutes, then pulls out his laptop and flips it on. Instead of playing games or staring at a blank screen he actually starts trying out some notes for his project, though he chalks it up to his own desire to keep up with Sungyeol and not Sungyeol himself.

_Good art comes from the heart._

“I know that. I can do this,” Woohyun mutters under his breath. But it doesn’t sound too convincing, even to himself.

 

\--

 

Sunggyu gets straight to the point not a second sooner than Woohyun’s butt hits the chair across from the TA’s small work station, as is his way.

“The good news is, you’re not necessarily going to fail because you haven’t even submitted a draft of your project. The bad news is, the professor is very clear she wants you working on campus from now on. No more hiding out in your apartment.”

Woohyun shrugs, uncomfortable. “I wasn’t hiding, I was in a slump.”

“And I’m sorry for that, but you can’t _not_ turn in a final project, Woohyun-sshi,” Sunggyu reminds him, his tone softening.

“I know that.” Woohyun lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “I just… I’m tired of being a disappointment to everyone.” _To myself_ , he adds in his head.

“I talked to the professor on your behalf, and she’s giving you the benefit of the doubt even though you haven’t submitted any drafts yet,” Sunggyu tells him sternly. “You’re her best student, so that’s why she’s got high expectations for you.”

The professor has never called him her best student, not to his face. But Woohyun knows Sunggyu would never make something like that up, and the realization makes his tears come perilously close to welling up.

“I know she’s expecting a lot. I expect a lot from myself too, but I broke under pressure this time,” Woohyun admits after calming himself, looking down at his hands. It’s preferable to nothing, but it’s still going to be tough to play catch up or settle for turning in something unpolished. “It’s stuff like this that makes me doubt I’m going to survive in the industry once I graduate.”

“It’ll be sink or swim, just like now.” Sunggyu crosses his arms and stares Woohyun down from across the desk. “You know you could’ve come to anyone to talk about this sooner. Why didn’t you say something? You didn’t have to deal with it alone.”

At this Woohyun’s eyes dart involuntarily to the side, though he can still feel Sunggyu’s gaze burning him.

“I wanted to work things out myself,” he says finally. “And… I wasn’t totally alone, Lee Sungyeol is my roommate for the time being.”

“Okay, I get it.” Sunggyu sighs. “Look, it’s not too late, so just please have something to submit by the time you meet with her again. She’s really hoping for you to improve.”

Sunggyu dismisses him after that, though the doubt and regret are still swirling around Woohyun’s head like a cloud as he walks down the hallway down to the department cafeteria. He’s just outside the door and about to open it when he hears a conversation inside that makes everything in his world stop.

“So you really did it? You guys broke in and trashed Lee Sungyeol’s place?”

“Yeah, he deserved it. He shouldn’t have won grand prize last year with that excuse for a sculpture, the professors are totally biased.”

“He obviously didn’t deserve it at all. This’ll make him think twice about entering again.”

“Seriously? So we won’t have to worry about him getting the spot in the show this year?”

“Well, if he gets too shaken up by it to work on his entry, then he wasn’t up to it in the first place, right?”

There’s hoots of laughter then, and Woohyun can’t take it anymore. He flings open the door with a loud bang and storms into the room, and there’s a dead silence for a moment as several pairs of eyes all swing and focus on Woohyun.

“Don’t talk about him like that.”

Woohyun’s voice sounds oddly calm even to himself, but he can feel his blood boiling underneath his skin.

“You got something you wanna say to us?” One of the larger guys grimaces at Woohyun, motioning to the whole group.

“I said, don’t talk about Lee Sungyeol like that.”

Woohyun knows that kids his age are capable of terrible things, but this is a new level. They must not have seen Sungyeol pulling all-nighters in the studio to get his sculpture just right, or going through draft after draft of sketches, or the huge stash of art theory books he reads when he’s not working on a sculpture because his entire life revolves around it. How could anyone possibly believe he  _doesn’t deserve_  it?

“You don’t know anything about him. None of it was his fault, all along. He was going crazy blaming himself when it was  _you_!” Woohyun’s voice shakes involuntarily, his hands balling into fists as his tears well up. “You’re not going to get away with this.”

He turns around, fully intending to storm out and report what he heard to whichever professor he can find, but one of them walks up and shoves Woohyun from behind, causing him to stumble.

“What—“ When Woohyun turns around to defend himself, another one of the students walks up and shoves him harder, pushing him to the ground this time.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Someone taunts him as the others surround him, as if in slow motion, and Woohyun blinks up at them, wondering if he should be afraid. He probably should be, but he isn’t. The only thing on his mind in that moment, in fact, is Sungyeol.

Normally, Woohyun wouldn’t have lost his cool, wouldn’t have stormed in and said anything, but it was simply too much. It hurt something deep inside of him to think how Sungyeol deserved better than this petty hatred and jealousy. Woohyun doesn’t know why or how he’s gotten so attached to him, but he’s glad Sungyeol wasn’t to blame after all.

He braces himself for another attack, but then there’s the sound of more people coming down the hallway and the group scatters, leaving Woohyun alone in the cafeteria. He stays sitting on the ground even after they’re gone, overwhelmed with too many emotions at once.

After a moment the door swings open, and Sunggyu shows up. “Woohyun-sshi? What happened in here?”

“Nothing, they didn’t hurt me. I just want to go home,” Woohyun protests, but when he tries to stand up his legs feel weak and wobbly. He hasn’t slept for two nights now, and like a thread being cut the tension holding him together dissolves all at once. The ground feels like it’s spinning, his field of vision blurring, and he doesn’t make it two steps before sinking back to the nice cool floor.

When Woohyun next becomes fully conscious, he’s lying in his own bed. Sungyeol is sitting next to him, rummaging through first-aid supplies in a neon colored box that looks suspiciously like something Dongwoo would own.

“Oh good, you’re awake. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to call a doctor.” Sungyeol grins widely when he sees Woohyun turn to look at him.

Woohyun sits up slowly; there’s an ice pack on his head, though instead of packing it in a sleeve like it’s supposed to be it’s been left to drip condensation all over his hair and forehead.

“Promise me you won’t quit art to become a nurse,” Woohyun groans, and Sungyeol huffs.

“I think I did a  _great_  job. I followed Dongwoo hyung’s instructions and made sure you were comfortable.”

“Dongwoo’s what? What even happened?” Woohyun squints, pretending not to remember. It’s all kind of a blur to begin with, and explaining why exactly he passed out in the middle of the cafeteria seems like a bad idea at the moment.

“We were hoping you would tell us that.” Sungyeol frowns. “Sunggyu found you in the cafeteria and you collapsed with a high fever. You told him it was from lack of sleep, so he called Dongwoo and Howon and they brought you back to your place to rest. We’ve been checking on you in shifts to be safe, but Dongwoo had to go to class,” he explains. “They all told me I needed to call a doctor if you didn’t wake up soon, and to make sure you were breathing okay and didn’t turn blue in the face.”

“Huh, everyone was pretty worried then.” Woohyun reaches under his shirt to scratch his stomach and realizes there’s a cool washcloth there, though it’s also too wet. Well, at least Sungyeol tried to be thoughtful in his care, despite the less than stellar execution. “They weren’t too upset, I hope? I told them over and over again it’s not a big deal, it’s only because I haven’t been sleeping.”

“Everyone was still worried about you,” Sungyeol admits. “I… I was too, you know. Do you really not remember what happened?”

“Well… not everything,” Woohyun lies again, reaching up to remove the melting ice pack.

“Hey, don’t do that.” Sungyeol reaches out to grab his hand. “Your fever is better, but it hasn’t gone all the way down.”

“Sungyeol-ah.” Without thinking, Woohyun slides his fingers through Sungyeol’s when he takes his hand, and even though it’s weird, it’s oddly comforting at the same time. Sungyeol stares at him with wide eyes, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

“Woohyun hyung…?”

“You don’t have to worry about your goshiwon. It wasn’t your fault at all, so you’ll get to go back soon,” Woohyun tells him, and Sungyeol only seems more confused.

“How do you know that?”

Woohyun lies back down and smiles despite the aching he feels in his entire body thanks to the fever. He doesn’t let go of Sungyeol’s hand.

“A little bird told me.”

 

\--

 

Sungyeol knows he’s not the best at reading others, but anyone would be able to tell Woohyun is lying to him when he says he doesn’t remember anything about the day he passed out. No matter how many times he asks, Woohyun somehow manages to avoid giving him a straight answer, and Sungyeol can’t pry anything definite out of him.

Before long, Woohyun’s prophecy comes true and Sungyeol gets the green light to move back into his goshiwon with little fanfare and oddly enough, no landlord coming down on him for the repair bills. He also notices that a handful of students from his class stop showing up out of nowhere not long after the day they found Woohyun in the cafeteria, and everyone seems to know why besides Sungyeol. Like Woohyun, no one seems willing to tell him what happened. It’s annoying as hell.

‘Moving out’ of Woohyun’s place happens almost as unceremoniously. Woohyun’s expression is unreadable, his hands in his pockets as Sungyeol zips up the duffel bag he brought with him.  

“Well… thanks for letting me crash here,” Sungyeol hovers in the doorway before he leaves, somehow feeling even more awkward than usual.

“It was fun, Sungyeol-ah. We should get drinks sometime,” Woohyun says, and for some reason Sungyeol feels like he means the opposite, as if Woohyun is going to disappear from his life forever if he takes his eyes off of him for even a second. His fever is better now, but he still looks pale and worn out, and it makes something in Sungyeol’s chest feel heavy.

“Yeah, I guess we should,” is all Sungyeol replies with in the end, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

His goshiwon is bare of all the junk he kept in there before, cleared out and scrubbed clean, containing only the simple furniture it came with. He knows he should go to the studio, but Sungyeol texts Sungjong and asks if he and Myungsoo can come over instead.

“What’s wrong, hyung?”

That’s the first thing Sungjong asks when he arrives, Myungsoo in tow. Maybe because they’ve been friends long enough where he can tell if Sungyeol is upset even over texts, or maybe because Sungyeol went up to both of them as soon as they came in, grabbing each of them with one of his arms and squeezing.

“I don’t know,” Sungyeol murmurs, and it’s both the truth and the answer to Sungjong’s question. 

 

\--

 

It’s nearly the end of the term when Sungyeol finally tells his friends what he’d been up to while he was with Woohyun.

“Sooo… you guys aren’t mad at me for not telling you about what happened?”

Following his explanation of how he ended up living with Woohyun temporarily, Sungyeol poses the question to both of his friends. He’s sitting in the studio working on his sculpture while Sungjong looks at his phone and Myungsoo does his calculus homework, sprawled out on the floor next to him. Myungsoo looks up briefly from his books, a slight pout on his catlike mouth, and Sungjong glances at him before looking at Sungyeol.

“A text or two would have been nice, but we figured it was better to leave you alone,” he says honestly.

“I’m really, really sorry, guys. I just… it was a bad time, but you still deserved to know,” Sungyeol puts down the wires he was messing with to look at both of them. “I’ll make it up to you somehow.”

“it’s okay. I mean, I didn’t exactly tell you I liked Sungjongie until after we were, uh, together,” Myungsoo’s ears are flushed slightly pink, and Sungjong coughs loudly. “I knew you would support me, but I didn’t want you to worry about me… I guess you probably felt the same way, right?”

“Yeah, I did.” Sungyeol smiles and goes back to his work as well. It feels like forever since he’s gotten to just spend time with his friends like this, which is honestly pretty weird. “But anyway, how are things with you guys for reals? This kid isn’t giving you problems or anything like that, right?” he asks, gesturing to Sungjong.

“You act like _I’m_ the problem child in this room,” Sungjong smirks, but Myungsoo smiles shyly and shakes his head, his ears fully pink now.

“N-No, nothing like that,” he says, then hesistates. “I just… well, I was actually thinking of asking you to help me sign up for a different art class. Since, you know, all I’ve really done so far is photography.”

“Will you talk some sense into him? He’s worried he has to change all his hobbies so we’ll have more to talk about,” Sungjong complains, reaching over to lightly punch Myungsoo’s shoulder. “I keep telling him it’s not like that at all.”

“Sungjong is right. It isn’t like that,” Sungyeol agrees as he twists some more wire together. “You shouldn’t be with someone if they want you to change something like your hobbies. I mean, you can change each other for the better and stuff, but they also need to be accepting. They need to be someone who takes care of you and spends time with you, even if they’re kind of annoying in that way sometimes because it’s obvious they have too much of their own stuff to deal with already,” he rambles, then nods confidently, and Myungsoo regards him with an amused little smirk that he usually only gets when he thinks he knows something Sungyeol doesn’t.

“Okay, I’ll make sure I find that exact type of person,” Myungsoo says in a funny voice, like he’s trying not to laugh.

“What’s so funny? Is there paint on my face again?” Sungyeol frowns, but Myungsoo and Sungjong only burst out laughing simultaneously, doubling over and falling to the ground for a few moments while Sungyeol stares at them in bewilderment.

“I think,” Myungsoo finally says between giggles, sitting up once he’s collected himself, “that you mean the exact type of person  _you_  want to be with.”

“Me? With someone?” Sungyeol stares at him like he’s transformed into an alien from outer space. Sungyeol doesn’t  _date_  people. And even if he did…

“It’s Woohyunie hyung, isn’t it?” Sungjong grins at him. “Even though you were telling us about what you did, you’ve only been talking about stuff you did with him. You guys barely knew each other before, and now look at you.”

“I… what? Me and Woohyun?” Sungyeol squints suspiciously at the two of them before glancing to the side. “I-I don’t talk about him that much, okay! Besides… he hasn’t contacted me at all since then, and I don’t know why.”

Sungjong isn’t moved. “But you like him.”

When Sungyeol turns to Myungsoo for help, Myungsoo’s steady gaze pierces him, and Sungyeol feels his heart drop in his chest. “Ever since I left his apartment,” he begins slowly. _I miss him_ , he wants to say. “I don’t know how to explain it, but I feel weird,” he says instead.

Both Sungjong and Myungsoo’s expressions drop a bit. Myungsoo stands up and goes to put his arms around him, and it’s only then that Sungyeol realizes his eyes are watering. It’s not that he’s sad, but he feels bizarrely frustrated.

“It’s gonna be okay,” Myungsoo tells him soothingly, hugging Sungyeol tightly, and Sungyeol squeezes his eyes shut and hugs Myungsoo back. “I’m sure he’ll come to see your sculpture when it’s done, so hurry and finish it.”

“I will. Er, I think,” Sungyeol says, looking anxiously at the tangle of wires in front of him.

By now, it’s been more than a month since he’s seen or heard from Woohyun. He hasn’t even heard anything about him from their top most busybody mutual friend Dongwoo, which is frankly worrying. It’s weird not seeing him every day, not getting barraged by his texts full of unnecessary emoticons, and it’s even weirder that Sungyeol misses any of it in the first place. He doesn’t know why he does. He doesn’t even know if Woohyun will still care, if he finishes the sculpture.

He just knows that he has to try.

 

\--

 

“So, what’s the title of your piece?”

“Nam—I mean,  _Projection and Song,_ ” Sungyeol says, quickly correcting himself and almost dropping his notecards. A few of his classmates snicker, but the professor merely shrugs and writes something down in his gradebook.

“Artist comments?”

Sungyeol swallows. Final evaluations had come quicker than anyone wanted or expected, and Advanced 3D Art’s was even earlier to give his professor extra time to coordinate the installation with the people putting on the art show.

 _It’s okay_ , he reminds himself.  _Don’t ramble. Deep breaths._

“This work is a lot different than anything else I’ve attempted. Usually I make sculptures based on current social trends, but this time I made something that means a lot to me personally,” Sungyeol explains, trying to sound as not-awkward as he can manage, reading off his notecards he spent most of the night before preparing. “I spent a lot of time this term observing someone and came up with this concept. A distinctly different image is seen depending on where you stand to view the installation, and you can’t fully appreciate its intricacies until you’re closer to it—with the image getting clearer the closer you are.”

“So you’re saying this work is based off the person you observed?” his professor asks, and Sungyeol tries not to blush in front of the entire class.

“Yes and no,” he says honestly, and turns to the rest of the class.

A few people have questions, but he doesn’t get any outright negative reviews this time around, mostly a lot of surprised reactions that he made something like this. The professor has been keeping fairly neutral the whole time, but he does nod appreciatively when Sungyeol is done with his evaluation.

After class, Professor Lee approaches him, and at first Sungyeol hopes he’s going to congratulate him, but the slip of paper he hands Sungyeol merely says “Appointment Request” on it along with Sunggyu’s signature.

“The TA said he wanted to see you in his office,” he explains casually. “Oh yeah, and good job today. I’ll let you know what the results are when the other curators look at the entries.”

“Thank you, seonsaengnim.” Sungyeol bows and takes the slip of paper before hurrying to the department’s advising office. Sunggyu is spinning idly in his chair when he gets there; Sungyeol vaguely remembers hearing something along the lines of ‘that hyung really needs a hobby.’

“Sunggyu hyung, you wanted to see me?”

“Yes, I ran into Professor Lee today and he mentioned you so I remembered I had something to tell you,” Sunggyu says, tapping his head as Sungyeol sits down across from him. “The truth is, Nam Woohyun asked that I wouldn’t tell you why he passed out, but I only agreed to keep it quiet because of Professor Lee’s request. And that request expires today.”

Sungyeol isn’t quite sure he follows entirely, but nods anyway. “So you’re going to tell me what happened finally?”

“Yes, basically,” Sunggyu begins. “Apparently, Woohyun had a confrontation with some students from your class who claimed to have trashed your goshiwon. Once everything got sorted out, they received punishment from the school and were ordered to compensate the landlord. Professor Lee said it would be better to ask if you wanted to press any further charges _after_ your project was finished.”

“I… What? Really?” Sungyeol hadn’t ever found out why he’d never received the repair bills, but it had always seemed… off to him. Still, he hadn’t expected this. “I mean, I don’t want to press anything, but why would they do that to my place? And why would Woohyun hyung confront them?”

“They were upset that your project won last year and tried to threaten you. They vandalized your locker too, but you were too dense to notice,” Sunggyu tells him flatly, and if Sungyeol didn’t know any better he’d think he was joking. As it stands, he can scarcely believe anything Sunggyu told him is true in the slightest. “And about Woohyun, well… your guess is as good as mine. You know how he can be secretive when he wants to be.”

“It’s irritating,” Sungyeol agrees, and they both laugh a little at that.

“Hyung, have you… talked to Woohyun lately?” Sungyeol ventures after a moment. Sunggyu frowns and shakes his head.

“No, and it’s a good thing too. He’s got a lot of work to finish before his final submission,” he tells Sungyeol, and even having a little confirmation that Woohyun has in fact been busy working on his project makes him feel better on multiple levels, for some reason.

“I see. Well, thanks for telling me the truth, hyung.” Sungyeol stands up as if to go somewhere, though he’s not really sure what to do with himself now that final evaluations are over and he doesn’t have twenty million things to do for his sculpture.

Sunggyu must realize this too, because he stands up too and waves Sungyeol off. “Don’t stand around here looking lost, go out and have fun now that your evaluation’s done with.”

“Fun? Right… fun.”  Sungyeol nods blankly and walks out of the office, then out of the art building. He stops and stares up at the trees dotting the campus, still unsure what to do or what to make of anything.

“What’s fun again?” he asks no one in particular. And no one in particular answers, though if he thinks really hard he can imagine Woohyun there next to him, smiling and telling him to lighten up, maybe inviting him to get coffee or talk about sculptures or monkeys or any other random thing they used to talk about. But Woohyun isn’t there, and Sungyeol doesn’t like it. At all.

He sighs, adjusts the strap of his backpack, and heads back to his empty goshiwon room.

 

\--

 

It’s the last day of the term, and the last day of Sungyeol’s pop-up exhibition that he put up in an empty classroom.

At his professor’s request, he chose a handful of pieces along with his final project to be showcased for a couple of weeks as a sort of test-run before he installs his final project at the real exhibit opening at the gallery. It still feels like an odd unreality that he won first place again, and despite how rude it probably is Sungyeol knows he isn’t going to feel like he’s  _actually_  won anything until he knows if the ‘subject’ of his latest work will approve or not. He’s not even sure he’ll be happy about it at all, since it’s not like that person really meant it when he said he wanted Sungyeol to make a sculpture out of him.

The exhibit isn’t being advertised outside of the university so only a few people at most have been stopping by at a time, but since there’s really only Sungyeol to watch the room he doesn’t mind too much. The only part he doesn’t like is the way his heart rises in his chest a little in expectation every time the door opens, only to fall again when it’s not the specific person Sungyeol is waiting for.

Sungyeol is only starting to consider closing up for the day when the door swings open. He’s pacing around aimlessly on the other side of the room at first, and doesn’t see who it is. When the visitor crosses paths with Sungyeol, though, he stops in his tracks.

 “Well, look who decided to show up.”

 

\--

 

Woohyun hurries as fast as he can from the music department’s office over to the spare classroom, hoping that Sungyeol hasn’t decided to close up yet. The room is still open, thankfully, but he doesn’t see Sungyeol around right away so he pokes around looking at the artwork first.

It’s the first time he’s really gotten to see a lot of Sungyeol’s artwork in person, but it’s all really amazing. Each piece has an amusingly long avant-garde title and professional-looking interpretive text composed by Sungyeol himself, which is actually sort of incredible considering Sungyeol is all of twenty years old in reality. Woohyun decides his favorite in the bunch is a large, somewhat amorphous statue of black plastic and copper wire called  _Action of Hate (vegetable)_.

“Well, look who decided to show up.”

Sungyeol’s voice catches him off guard. Woohyun knows he looks totally different from the last time Sungyeol saw him; he’s carrying a briefcase and dressed business casual in a slate gray button up, slacks, and smart looking dress shoes he bought recently, just for this occasion. When he feels Sungyeol staring, he grins sheepishly and rubs the back of his head.

“Hey, Sungyeol-ah.”

Sungyeol crosses his arms petulantly. “Why are you wearing that? You didn’t give up on your project and go back to your secret chaebol life, did you?”

“I presented my piece today. I finished a few minutes before the deadline,” Woohyun tells him, smiling wryly. “But I did manage to submit everything satisfactorily.”

“I’m really happy for you, hyung.” Sungyeol smiles, but he seems nervous. “I’m… I’m happy you came, too. I was worried you might not.”

“I wouldn’t miss this for anything,” Woohyun grins back, trying to reassure him. “I’m not a modern art expert, but my favorite is probably  _Action of Hate (vegetable)_.   _Rhubarb and Beginning_  is nice, too.”

“I thought you would like those, I made them with more emotionality than usual.” Sungyeol grins back, and Woohyun wonders if he’s imagining the faint blush on his cheeks.

“So, where’s the big grand prize winner? I haven’t seen it yet,” Woohyun asks, and he feels his heart start to beat quicker as Sungyeol takes his hand in his own.

“Close your eyes and follow me. Don’t open them until I tell you,” he instructs him, and Woohyun stares at their joined hands for another moment before finally complying.

Carefully, Sungyeol leads Woohyun away from the other pieces. It doesn’t feel like they go very far, just to the other side of the room maybe, and there’s the sound of switches being flipped. They come to a stop, and Sungyeol finally lets go of his hand.

“Okay, open your eyes.”

Woohyun does, and immediately gasps involuntarily. “Oh my god.”

The wire sculpture Sungyeol presented for his final evaluation stands on a simple pedestal against a dark blue backdrop, and is positioned in front of what looks like a smaller version of a floodlight. The light shines directly through the sculpture, filling the backdrop with specks of colored light interspersed with the delicate shadows cast by the wire. The wires look like a random mess at first, but as Woohyun gets closer, they take on a different form, lacy intricate patterns woven through each section. He can see the deliberateness in each twist, the countless pieces of tiny colored glass inserted carefully into the spaces between each loop of wire.

“Sungyeol-ah,” is all he manages to say as he keeps staring at the installation. It’s extremely delicate, almost organic-looking compared to Sungyeol’s other works, but it’s one of the most beautiful things Woohyun thinks he’s ever seen.

“The official title is  _Projection and Song_ , but I call it the Nam-Spectacle,” Sungyeol says proudly. Woohyun stares again at the lights, then at Sungyeol, his jaw still slack with surprise.

“You made this yourself?  _How_?”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly easy… I had to ask my professor to help me find somewhere to cut all the glass, and then that’s all I was doing for weeks. But I like how it turned out in the end,” Sungyeol shuffles around, glancing nervously at Woohyun. “Do you, um… do you like it?”

“It’s… incredible.” Woohyun blinks a few times as he looks at the sculpture again, feeling his heart swell with a mix of emotions. He thinks he might actually be tearing up a little as he claps Sungyeol on the shoulder. “Everything here is. I’m really proud of you, Sungyeollie.”

“I made it for you. I worked nonstop and finished it because I wanted to show you,” Sungyeol blurts out. “So I… I’m glad you like it.”

“I love it, so much. Thank you.” Woohyun doesn’t know what else to say. He feels real tears welling up in the corners of his eyes and threatening to spill over, but hurriedly wipes them away and starts digging around in his briefcase. “Actually, I, uh… made something for you too,” he admits. Sungyeol watches curiously, and eventually Woohyun produces some dog-eared music sheets from a folder, shoving them towards Sungyeol without looking directly at him.

“I’m sorry for not contacting you. But I had to get my act together, and I’m glad I did,” Woohyun says quickly before Sungyeol can question anything, his cheeks flushing slightly red as Sungyeol takes the papers uncertainly. “And congrats on getting first place again. And the exhibit, and everything else. You earned it.”

“Th… thanks, hyung.” Sungyeol looks down at the sheets. They’re completely handwritten, filled with notes by Woohyun’s own pen, and Sungyeol’s eyes widen when he reads the title of Woohyun’s piece. At the top, in large letters, Woohyun had written down the words ‘From the Heart.’

“Hyung… this is…” Sungyeol can’t finish his sentence, but Woohyun knows what he means and nods.

“Writing my feelings down on paper helped me get out of my slump. And it helped that… that I _had_ feelings about someone to actually write about,” Woohyun admits, flushing hotly.

“I… oh.” Sungyeol blinks in surprise as he processes this information. Then the two of them stand there in awkward silence before Sungyeol finally clears his throat. “So… we both made our projects…”

“Yeah, we did.” Woohyun is sweating a little with nerves by now, but he presses on. “What do you think? The recording is on my laptop, I thought, well, maybe we could listen to it together after this, if you want.”

“Of course I do!” Sungyeol blurts out. He stares at the papers in his hands, then he shifts his gaze to the side. “Um, hyung, can I ask you something?”

Woohyun isn’t sure what to expect, but nods. “Anything.”

“Can I kiss you?”

Now it’s Woohyun’s turn to glance away, clearing his throat and trying to calm his racing heart. “You really have to ask?” he tries to sound casual, but it ends up just sounding even more nervous.

“I… I wanted to make sure.” Sungyeol steps forward. Neither of them are looking away from each other anymore. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while, now.”

“Yeah,” Woohyun says, feeling like laughing and crying all at once. “Me too.”

 “I’ve never,” Sungyeol starts, his voice strained, his shoulders tensing slightly when Woohyun rests his hands on them. “Woohyun, I’ve never kissed anyone before. I’ve… I’ve never liked anyone this much before, ever. Just— just so you know.”

“It’s okay,” Woohyun whispers, looking up at Sungyeol. He really is quite tall, so he tiptoes and pulls him down a little to kiss him on the cheek. “We can go slow. We’ll learn it together.”

Sungyeol looks at him for another moment, puts down the papers and places his hands lightly on Woohyun’s waist instead. “Okay.”

When he first kisses him, Woohyun can tell how nervous Sungyeol is, too. It’s soft and sweet, but still hesitant, like neither of them are convinced they’re doing it right. To quell his own anxiety but also Sungyeol’s, Woohyun reaches up and cups the sides of Sungyeol’s face with gentle hands, pressing their bodies closer together, encouraging Sungyeol to wrap his arms around him. Like that their kisses become slow but sure, their lips pressing together a little longer each time. Even after they finally break apart, Sungyeol looks into Woohyun’s eyes with the most blissed-out expression, his arms still wrapped stubbornly around Woohyun like he never wants to let go, and it’s so adorable that Woohyun feels like his heart might burst.

“Sunggyu hyung told me what you did,” Sungyeol murmurs, pressing his lips to Woohyun’s forehead. “He told me you stood up to the people who did that to my room.”

“It was just a coincidence,” Woohyun says honestly. He hopes Sunggyu didn’t tell him the whole story, but when Sungyeol hugs him even tighter he’s not so sure.

“Even if it was, I’m happy. I’m happy you finished your project, and I’m happy you like mine.” Sungyeol pauses after that. “I… I missed you, though. A lot.”

“Then come back,” Woohyun replies, then clears his throat and quickly adds, “I mean, you don’t _have_ to move back in if you don’t want to. But there’s a bunch of cereal on my top shelf that I can’t reach anymore without a stool, and no one to eat the other half of my scallion pancakes, and—”

“When I move in again,” Sungyeol interrupts him, “You have to tell me if you feel like you need help. I mean it.”

“I did fine on my own though,” Woohyun informs him, but when Sungyeol gives him a look he sighs. “Okay, I promise I won’t stew in my own sadness alone. But you can’t do it either. Plus, you should learn how to cook something besides ramyeon for dinner.”

“How about we work on it together?” Sungyeol suggests. He runs his fingers gently through Woohyun’s hair as he does, and Woohyun’s eyes burn again, like he might cry.

He doesn’t, though. He slips his arms around Sungyeol’s waist, rests his head on Sungyeol’s chest, and smiles instead.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “We’ll work on it together.”

 

\--

 

Woohyun’s fallen in love with people before, but none of them were anything quite like Lee Sungyeol.

Woohyun likes wearing Sungyeol’s sweatshirts, old and new, and despite his new source of inspiration composing doesn’t always come easy of course. Sungyeol keeps on making sculptures, each one more nonsensical than the last, but despite their new relationship he mostly remains his stubbornly independent self. Lots of times though, Sungyeol will hug him from behind in that sweet awkward way of his, or kiss his forehead shyly, and Woohyun feels like the luckiest person alive.

Their apartment also gradually gets filled with Sungyeol’s sculptures, the manageable-sized ones anyway. Woohyun thinks they give the place character, and is positively delighted by the different reactions they get from Dongwoo and Howon and the rest of their friends who come over.

It’s not until much later when Woohyun finally comes home with a work of art of his own to decorate the place with. After submitting his project, he landed an internship with a production team and had to start working himself half to death, but one of his arrangements finally passed muster to be used in a project. Naturally, his first course of action is to print out a huge poster-size version of the transcript to frame and put on the wall above the couch.

“Did it really have to be a song for an advertisement?” Sungyeol groans when he comes home and sees it, complete with a huge pop-art style logo. “I mean… not that I’m not happy for you.”

“You’d better be, it’s my first contribution to the place. A Nam Woohyun original,” Woohyun tells him proudly. “What about you? Are you going to the studio today?”

“No, you promised you’d show me how to make that omelet with mushrooms I really like. In exchange for me watching that music documentary with you tonight, though I think you owe me two lessons considering the latest décor addition,” Sungyeol reminds him. “Anyway, I was looking forward to eating real food again.”

“Oh, that’s right! Dinner and a movie,” Woohyun claps his hands. “Okay, date night it is.”

“Don’t call it that, it’s so cheesy.” Sungyeol protests, but when Woohyun wraps his arms around him and gives him a puppy-eyed look, he gives in pretty easily. “Okay, fine, it’s  _date night_. Happy?”

Woohyun looks up and kisses the tip of Sungyeol’s nose.

“With you, always,” he says, his tone light, but Sungyeol looks at him and smiles, like he thinks Woohyun means it.

And maybe, Woohyun really does.

 

 


End file.
